


Professionalism is Overrated

by LynnLarsh



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: At least not on screen, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, No proper massage therapist would do this, Our boys are mad thirsty for each other, Specifically so you guys can see that thirst in real time, Spit POV, There's a Happy Ending but no "Happy Ending" you dig?, bad business practices, but hey, like really, mild exhibitionism, okay i'm done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 05:24:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18403994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynnLarsh/pseuds/LynnLarsh
Summary: Shiro forces Keith to get a massage. Lance is the masseuse he recommends to him.  Of course Shiro doesn't have ulterior motives.  What kind of brother do you think he is?





	Professionalism is Overrated

**Author's Note:**

> Been wanting to bust this fic out since my massage a couple of months ago. No, it did not pan out the way it does for these two thirsty fools. Not all of us can be so lucky. 
> 
> I have a couple more projects in the works that I hope to start posting soon, but for now, I hope you enjoy this little bit of sexual tension, steam, and the beginnings of what I choose to believe is love. Because who says you can't find love on a massage table, am I right?

For what felt like the hundredth time, Keith flipped the business card between his fingers and mentally chided himself for giving Shiro the satisfaction of a follow through. He knew how to take care of himself, knew to stretch before sessions and cool down after training. He knew when his muscles were strained or fatigued or simply a tad over worked. Which meant he knew that, despite Shiro’s chiding, despite his arguing and compromising, he really had no reason to be here. If not just because he took care enough of his body ( _regardless of Shiro’s adamency that getting older required more intimate attention_ ), than because he really had no desire to let some _stranger_ get their hands all over his body. It wasn’t going to help him relax, which most certainly wasn’t going to alleviate any muscle tension, which meant all of this was a waste of Shiro’s fifty bucks.

For what felt like the thousandth time, Keith huffed past a frown, leg shaking and heel tapping out an uneven rhythm against the carpeted floor. The business card flipped from finger to finger to thumb and back again. Black font on white cardstock. Stock image of a half naked woman with rocks lining her spine. He should have just pretended he lost the thing, but Shiro meant well. And Keith had never learned how to say no to that particular type of caring his brother could occasionally exude.

It was just… massages really weren’t Keith’s thing.

“Keith?” A voice announced in a Spa Whisper from the door which led to the massage rooms.

Looks like he didn’t have much of a choice anymore.

With a begrudging sigh, Keith lifted his head from where it had fallen heavy between his shoulders, began dragging himself to his feet-- and then promptly froze.

The masseuse who was looking at him couldn’t have been much older than Keith, tan skin, bright blue eyes, a charming smile, friendly energy. And so fucking attractive it made Keith’s heart stutter right out of his chest.

In the half a second it took for Keith’s whole world to come to a screeching halt, two things registered in the back of his mind with equal if contradictory intensity:

1\. Shiro had bought him this message not just as a means of helping him take better care of himself, but also on the recommendation that this particular masseuse was very, _very_ good at his job. Which means Shiro had met this particular masseuse before, had seen this particular masseuse before, and had recognized that he was very, _very_ much Keith’s type. Thusly: _Fuck you, Shiro._

2\. This very good looking masseuse was about to put his hands all over Keith’s mostly naked body… Thusly: _Fuck._

“Keith?” The masseuse said his name again, a look of amused confusion pulling at his brows and lips and somehow making him look even more attractive. Keith shot to his feet, trying not to look as awkward as he suddenly felt.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck in embarrassment and silently cursing Shiro’s name. “That’s me. Hi.”

That easy smile returned to full, kissable lips ( _Jesus Keith, get a hold of yourself_ ) and the masseuse held out his hand. “Hey there. I’m Lance. I’m gonna be working on you today. Ready?”

 _Not even a little bit_ , Keith thought, but instead managed a soft, “As I’ll ever be, I guess,” as he shook Lance’s offered hand once and let go.

Lance chuckled softly and the sound went right to Keith’s chest, forcing his heart into a bit of an acrobatic flip. “Don’t worry, it’s not as terrifying as it sounds. You’ll be melting into the table in no time.” Before Keith could ask him exactly what _that_ meant, Lance was gesturing towards the open door and the hallway of rooms beyond it. “Follow me.”

\---

It took every ounce of professionalism Lance had not to flirt. But good lord, his newest customer was _hot_. A bit broody, definitely sporting a ( _hopefully_ ) unintentional mullet, but both were ignorable for the gorgeous indigo of his eyes or the sharp cut of his jaw. He looked lean too, definitely hiding some muscle beneath his black shirt and loose fitting jeans. Not to mention how cute it was when his face scrunched up with nerves at the mention of his massage. Definitely a first timer then. Even better; Lance might not be able to woo him with his words, but he could _definitely_ woo him with his hands.

“We’re in room three,” Lance said, gesturing towards the open door. As expected, Keith didn’t automatically go inside, lingering in the doorway as he took in the dim lighting, the cheesy Spa Music, and the lone massage table. His posture looked almost defensive, as if he were waiting for someone to physically push him inside. Or maybe verbally push him? “It’s okay to be a little scared your first time,” Lance prodded, just shy of what would probably be frowned upon in terms of customer interactions. But the guy looked like he needed a bit of a nudge in the right direction. And he also looked like the sort to never back down from a challenge.

Instantly proving Lance right, Keith stiffened, glancing over his shoulder first in shock, then in annoyance, eyes narrowing into an impressive (and undeniably attractive) glare. “I’m not scared,” he huffed. Then, thankfully missing Lance’s smug look of triumph, he walked confidently into the room.

 _Called it_. 

Lance followed Keith inside, leaving the door open for now and going into his spiel.

“I have you down for a deep tissue, which means we’re going to be working more on relieving tension and breaking down knots. That being said, if I ever put too much pressure, don’t be afraid to tell me to pull back.”

Keith scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You can’t hurt me.”

 _Challenge accepted_ , Lance thought, a little surprised at how quickly that singular comment had managed to get under his skin. But he ignored it; he was a professional after all. So instead, he simply smiled and said, “I’m sure I can’t. Just protocol. Now, anywhere in particular you want me to work on?”

Something odd flitted across Keith’s attractive features, scrunching his face up in a different sort of frown than the nervous one, not that it was any less cute. “Shiro thinks I’ve been putting too much strain on my back when we work out. I guess you can start there.”

“Shiro?” Lance blinked. “Did he recommend you to me?”

Keith glanced away, shrugging. “I guess.” His shoulders looked even more tense than when he’d first walked in; they were going to have a hell of a time with the knots there, Lance had no doubt. 

Shiro was a regular of their spa’s. He’d often come in for physical therapy with Shay and the occasional massage with Lance. The guy was impossible to forget, a regular adonis with muscles for days. He’d mentioned a brother during one of their session, but it had completely skipped Lance’s mind. He made it a point to sent Shiro a mental thank you before continuing. 

“I’ll step out for a bit and let you get undressed,” he finally said, taking a step back. When Keith involuntarily shot him a terrified look, Lance paused. Willing his heart to behave itself ( _cute, cute, cute_ ), Lance offered Keith what he hoped was a comforting smile. “You can leave your underwear on if you’re uncomfortable, don’t worry. I have a feeling I’ll mostly be working on your back anyway. All right?”

For a long moment, Keith just stared at him; brows furrowed in part confusion, part frustration seemed to be his resting face. Eventually he just nodded and turned back towards the table, barely waiting for Lance to close the door before ripping his shirt from his back. As much as he wanted to, Lance didn’t stay to sneak a peek at the disrobing; he was still a professional after all. That doesn’t mean he didn’t accidentally catch a glimpse of toned back muscles in Keith’s haste to rip off the bandaid of undressing in semi-public.

It usually took clients a couple of minutes to remove their clothes, get situated, and settle down, so Lance utilized that time by popping into the staff room for a glass of water.

Or, at least, that was the plan until he noticed the other masseuse currently taking her break.

“Alluuuuraaaa,” Lance sing-songed, skipping over to the couch where she was situated and currently scrolling through social media on her phone. “Allura, I’m in heaven.”

“Shiro schedule you for a last minute session?” She asked, tucking a lock of silver blonde hair behind her and steadfastly not looking up from her phone. Lance was unfazed by her indifference, plopping himself down at her side and leaning his head on her shoulder, eyes scanning the screen of her phone and taking in none of it.

“Nope,” he said, giving the “p” at the end a nice, solid _pop_. Then, with a grin, he said, “His brother.”

That got Allura’s attention. “He has a brother?” She asked, turning towards Lance with a start. When Lance only nodded excitedly, a knowing look creeped into her gaze. “And?” She prodded, smirk pulling at her lightly painted lips. Lance’s grin turned damn near giddy.

“And he’s just as hot. _Hotter_ even, like in a badass kind of emo way? But he’s also super nervous to be here. Like, first time, you know? Which also makes him _cute_! He’s hot _and_ cute, Allura! I may not make it through this session.”

“Just keep it in your pants and you’ll be fine,” Allura laughed, only half chiding. Lance ruffled her hair as he got to his feet.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Job first, getting laid second.” He glanced at the clock hanging above the door and realized his couple of minutes were pretty much up. If he waited too long, Keith might get so nervous he’d actually bolt. “Speaking of, I have a half naked hottie waiting for me to relieve some tension in his trapezius muscles. Later, princess.”

“You could always put your number on the back of your business card on the way out,” Allura offered, and Lance felt a thrill of anticipation at her words. Enough so that he couldn’t help throwing her a wink over his shoulder before practically skipping back into the hall.

“Oh, I intend to.”

\---

Keith had never been so uncomfortable in his life. 

Once he’d removed all of his clothes (boxers too, because he was nothing if not stubborn) he’d gotten under the thin sheet atop the massage table. And ever since, he hadn’t been able to stop fidgeting: putting his face in the weird cushion hole, taking it out again, looking towards the door as if expecting Lance to already be back and mocking him, lather-rinse-repeat. How long did it take for the masseuse to return in these situations anyway? Did he have enough time to put his clothes back on and escape this nightmare scenario?

A soft knock on the door startled him so badly he heard something beneath him squeak in protest.

Guess escape was off the table… for lack of a better term.

Keith took a breath and forced himself to lower his head into the cushion hole a final time, eyes squeezed shut.

Lance didn’t say a word as he walked in, probably hoping Keith was already substantially soothed by the annoying instrumental music softly filtering through the speakers. But all Keith could focus on was the sound of the door closing, the quiet footsteps of Lance walking over to the corner of the room, the odd accumulation of noises that meant he was doing something to prepare for the massage. Maybe grabbing supplies? Keith thought he heard the sound of a cabinet door opening and closing, maybe the pop of a cap for some bottle?

Keith was so busy trying to identify the unfamiliar noises that he missed the moment that Lance had walked back to his side, the volume of Lance’s voice making his entire body tense in surprise.

“All set, buddy?”

“Uh…” Keith cleared his throat. “Sure?” He sounded very _un_ sure, and Lance apparently could tell.

“Keith.” Lance’s voice was right by his ear, enough so that Keith could tell he was kneeling at the side of the table. “Look at me for a moment, yeah?”

After a brief pause and a deep breath he hoped wasn’t too noticeable, Keith turned his head towards that voice, heart clenching painfully when he was met with Lance’s kind eyes and comforting smile. Even in the dim lighting of the room it was impossible not to see how beautiful he was, especially when he was looking at Keith like _that_.

“If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. You know that, right?” He said, mouth quirking a bit at one corner. But it didn’t look teasing in any way. Instead, it looked... understanding. “I’m not strapping you to the table and forcing you to relax. It doesn’t work that way.”

Keith couldn’t help but bristle, eyes narrowing. “I know it doesn’t,” he tried to bite back, but with the way his cheek was pressed against the cushion, it came out far less venomous than he wanted. Lance huffed out a soft laugh, but somehow it still only seemed amused, not mocking.

“All I’m saying,” he said, with a casual wave of his hand. “Is that you don’t have to stay if you’re too uncomfortable. This is meant to be stress relief, not surgery. If you’re not feeling it, now or at any point, just say so. I can set up a refund for you up front while you get dressed.”

It was… oddly considerate, and somehow knowing that he had an out, at any time, made some of the anxiety and tension bleed out of his shoulders. And maybe that was Lance’s plan all along, to put him into a false sense of security, but fuck. All that combined with his warm smile and soothing voice? Keith couldn’t say it wasn’t working.

Still, he was hard headed till the very end, as Shiro would say. “I didn’t pay for it,” Keith mumbled. “Shiro did.” Lance was still remarkably unfazed, smile growing a bit smug at the edges as if he already knew he’d won.

“Well then I can refund _Shiro_ while you get dressed.” Then, getting to his feet, he asked, “So what do you think? You gonna stick around and give it a shot?” When Keith still didn’t answer right away, still torn between his pride and his nerves, Lance added, “You can trust me, you know. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I promise.”

A beat. Another. Then, by way of response, Keith put his head back into the cushion hole and closed his eyes.

“Alrighty then,” Lance chuckled softly. “Let’s get started.”

The first touch against his back came as a surprise, the sheet still pulled up to his shoulders keeping them from actual skin on skin contact, but somehow Keith could still feel Lance’s warmth beneath the pressure of his hands. He tensed a bit beneath the initial ministrations, but soon felt himself almost involuntarily relaxing. Lance somehow knew exactly how much pressure to apply, where to dig the heel of his hand into the muscle, and Keith was weak to it.

In fact, so weak, that the sound of a soft and undoubtably pleasurable moan escaped him before he could stop himself. 

Keith expected Lance to comment, even felt his shoulders tense again in preparation for it, but nothing came. No jibe, no tease, not even a passing remark about being glad he was enjoying himself. In fact, aside from the brief pause in his slow moving touch, Lance didn’t even seem to notice.

_Huh. Looks like the guy really is a professional._

\---

 _Keep it professional, Lance. Keep it professional._ Lance repeated like a mantra at the back of his mind, thankful that he was so used to his job that each movement across Keith’s back was automatic. Leaving his mind to berate him. _Just because Keith’s moans sound very much like sex noises doesn’t mean you can’t be professional. Just do your damn job and--_

Keith let out another soft noise, a bit more like a huff, perhaps even a gasp, and something hot and staticy rushed down Lance’s spine.

_Professional, professional, professional…_

Lance carefully folded back the sheet to reveal a tantalizing spread of taught muscles and broad shoulders. Lance swallowed thickly, suddenly wondering if he should be thanking Shiro or cursing him. “I’m gonna start working on your upper back, okay?” He asked, wincing when his voice cracked a little at the start. Keith only grunted in reply; thankfully it seemed Lance was the only one suffering terribly _un_ professional and indecent thoughts. “Don’t forget to let me know if the pressure is too much.”

He said it automatically, part of his usual spiel, as his hands began to knead at the muscles along Keith’s shoulders. And holy _shit_ this boy was rock solid, the sort of tightness associated with a combination of stress and heavy workout regimens with not enough stretching. Barely a few seconds in and Lance was already wincing in sympathy. Jesus, what had the guy been doing?

Working out these knots were going to hurt...

Keith apparently agreed with the sentiment.

“Ow! What the _fuck?_ ” Keith hissed in pain, fists noticeably clenching beneath the sheet. “What are you trying to do, bruise me?”

A little miffed, Lance kept up the same amount of pressure. “If I have to. Your muscles are practically begging me for it. Do you even _stretch_ before working out?”

“Of _course_ I do,” Keith scoffed, eye roll evident even with his face buried in the headrest. “My shoulders have always been-OW! _Jesus!_ ”

“They’ve always been knotted, I think you were going to say.” Then, for good measure, he added, “Besides, I thought you said I couldn’t hurt you.”

That seemed to do the trick, Keith’s whole body tensing beneath Lance’s hands before settling again. Keith didn’t say anything in response, but he didn’t have to; the message was clear. Stubborn and proud. Lance clicked his teeth, moving on to another section of knotted muscle, digging in and allowing the knot to break apart on its own.

A soft noise echoed from beneath him, and Lance could instantly envision Keith’s mouth hanging open, his eyes clenched shut, panting in soft shallow breaths trapped somewhere between pleasure and pain and--

_Nope. Not thinking about that._

For a brief moment, Lance couldn’t help but feel bad for giving Keith a hard time. This was his first massage after all. So, steeling himself for some vitriol, he let up on the pressure just a bit.

“Trust me, Keith,” he offered softly, trying once more to be comforting. “Your back is going to thank me for this. I don’t know how long you’ve been so tense, but I don’t think your muscles even remember what it’s like to be without knots. Give me the chance to work some of them out and you’ll feel like a new man. Scouts honor.” Then, when Keith didn’t automatically agree, he added even more softly, “You do trust me, don’t you?”

Another long and agonizing silence spread between them, enough so that Lance started to remove his hands from Keith’s back. Which was when a soft grunt sounded and Keith shifted on the table.

“Just…” Keith cleared his throat and tried again. “Just keep going.”

Lance couldn’t help but smile, putting a little more oil on his hands and getting back to work. 

He still kept the pressure a bit less than he was at originally, but either Keith didn’t notice or chose not to mention for the sake of that same stubborn pride. The guy might have a high pain tolerance, but massages were a different kind of pain, and most likely one Keith wasn’t prepared for. So Lance took it a bit easier on him. Not by much, though, still making it a point to dig into the muscles enough for them to break apart on their own.

And when they did… If Lance had thought Keith’s small moans of pleasure had been difficult to listen to, they were nothing when faced with the sounds that were currently floating from Keith’s lips to Lance’s ears.

\---

“ _Oh fuck_ …” Keith groaned as Lance’s fingers rolled over another bunch of loosening muscle, the ache of being broken down giving way to an almost euphoric sense of relief. It was a release he hadn’t expected, and one that was far, far too blissful for him to even think of holding back the noises he was making. Which should have been embarrassing, but Lance was way too good with his hands. And his fingers, fuck.

Keith tried not to think about other ways he’d love the boy to use those talented hands... 

“Ung-fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Keith hissed through his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath when Lance pressed against a particularly sensitive spot. The release that followed had him breathing out in a rush, the words, “ _Holy shit_ …” escaping him in a way that sounded almost reverent even to his own ears.

He hoped he wasn’t making Lance uncomfortable… but he was also a little too blissed out to give it the thought it probably deserved. He wasn’t sure if he was sold on massages or just Lance’s massages, but he’d be willing to do this once a week if he had the money. In fact, if Lance were up for it, hell, he’d invite the guy over and pay him in booze and food. Like a date maybe. Would he be up for something like that? Probably had to find out if the guy was gay first.

It was the intangible string of thoughts mixed with the perfect amount of pressure being applied to the middle of his back, right where he’d been aching all week, that caused the next words to escape past his lips.

“Fuck, _Lance_ …”

Keith’s eyes flew open.

The room grew instantly frigid, silent in a way that somehow managed to mute even the annoying spa music. Keith was pretty sure he’d never felt all the blood rush to his face so fast, but he was definitely putting money on possibly passing out. Good thing he was lying down.

“I…” He tried to say, but no words would come. Lance seemed equally as stunned, hands frozen on Keith’s back. His silence was almost worse. Keith could see Lance’s feet from beneath the table, unmoving. Which was something? At least he wasn’t running away, disgusted or embarrassed or worse. But god dammit if Lance’s name hadn’t felt _so good_ coming out of Keith’s mouth on a low moan like that...

Before he could attempt a proper apology, however, Lance’s hands started up again, perhaps a little hesitant in comparison to before, but still strong and talented. Keith bit his tongue this time.

“I know you probably didn’t mean to…” Lance whispered, the uncertainty and put-upon amusement contradictory to the sure way his hands had picked back up against Keith’s skin. “But careful with the noises, yeah?” Keith figured he was going to follow that up with something about volume complaints and other patients, but instead he added, somehow even more softly, “Keep saying my name like that and you’re going to make it very hard to stay professional.”

The words were meant to be humorous, even Keith could tell that much. But he could also hear the hint of truth beneath the statement. Like maybe he’d been having as hard a time as Keith. Like maybe he’d found Keith as attractive as Keith had found him. Like _maybe_ he didn’t _want_ to be professional. And fuck if that didn’t go straight to a part of Keith that really didn’t need to be acting up right now.

At least, not without permission.

Licking his lips and closing his eyes, allowing the feel of Lance’s hands on his back to give him courage, he whispered, “Professionalism is overrated.”

This time, when Lance’s hands came to a startled pause and a silence began to stretch, Keith didn’t give it time to become awkward or tense. Instead, he inched his way out of the cushion and up onto one elbow, looking expectedly up at a very stunned and adorably flustered Lance. 

The sight alone gave Keith all the confidence he needed, so when Lance’s hands fell from his back the more Keith shifted, he didn’t hesitate to grab one of Lance’s wrists and hold him in place.

Lance looked from Keith’s grip to his face and back, eyes wide and lips parted. Even in the dim lighting, it was impossible to miss the deep blush that had spread across Lance’s cheeks. So, taking that as a good sign, Keith pressed a little further. By pulling a little harder.

Apparently not expecting the slight tug in his direction, Lance stumbled, catching himself on the edge of the table. And conveniently finding himself nearly nose to nose with Keith. In a move that seemed so involuntary he didn’t even seem to notice himself doing it, Lance licked his lips. Keith swore he could almost _feel_ it.

“I shouldn’t…” Lance whispered, a breath of sound ghosting over Keith’s lips, and despite the meaning of the words, the breathiness in which they’d been spoken and the way Lance’s eyes couldn’t seem to stop glancing downwards, spoke volumes of contradiction. Keith’s heart skipped a beat, heat settling low and fierce at the pit of his stomach.

“I won’t tell anybody.”

Within those impossibly blue eyes, Keith swore he could see Lance’s resolve waver, crack, and crumble, but it wasn’t until Lance hissed out a curse that Keith allowed himself his moment of triumph.

“ _Fuck it_.”

Lance’s lips were as soft and plush as they appeared, pressing forward with a hungry insistence that left Keith reeling. Both physically and mentally, considering the way Lance eased himself forward until Keith was suddenly on his back, Lance looming over the table and above him.

This time, when Keith moaned, it rumbled from deep within his chest and echoed between their mouths, Lance huffing out a breath through his nose which fanned across Keith’s face like a soft caress. One of Lance’s hands was gripping the sheets to the right of Keith’s head, his arm effectively caging Keith in, and the feel of where he was and what they were doing abruptly rushed through him.

He wasn’t sure when he’d reached up to cup the back of Lance’s head and deepen the kiss, but his hair was soft beneath Keith’s fingers, just long enough to tug and relish in the noises that managed to elicit. When Lance also responded by delving his tongue past Keith’s lips, he could taste mint and something herbal, like tea. The room already smelled faintly of massage oils and floral aromatherapy, but this close, Keith could also smell a hint of what must be distinctly Lance, like sandalwood and fresh rain and afternoon sunshine and when the _fuck_ did Keith get so _cheesy_...?

Thankfully, he didn’t have much time to think on that, sufficiently distracted once again by the way Lance managed to cover even more of Keith’s body with his own. It was probably awkward for him, considering the way part of him was still half standing, but all Keith could focus on was the way that having Lance pressed so close, now kissing hungry, wet kisses just under his jaw, reminded Keith of the fact that there was no more than a thin sheet between them. And that Keith was very much naked underneath it.

Lance seemed to recognize that fact at the same time, one of his hands sliding down Keith’s chest mid kiss and pausing right at the juncture of his hip. The kiss broke with an obscene pop, both of them staring wide eyed at each other, panting breaths mingling and swollen lips parted. Lance licked his absently and they were still so close, Keith practically felt the movement against his own.

When Lance glanced from Keith’s face towards where his hand had paused, it was met with a soft curse and Lance’s head falling heavy between his shoulders. Soft, brown hair tickled at Keith’s bare chest, Lance’s nose dragging across sensitive skin and lips catching just barely on an already hardened nipple.

“You took them off,” Lance whispered, voice shaky, and Keith could do little more than nod, hips bucking up beneath Lance’s hand, because that touch was _so close_ to where Keith wanted it and he was hard and aching and-- “ _God_ ,” Lance groaned, burying his face against Keith’s chest more completely, voice somehow even softer than before. “I could get so fired for this.”

Oh. Right. They were kind of in Lance’s place of work, weren’t they…?

The devil on Keith’s shoulder wasn’t having it, demanding Keith push it to the back of his mind and keep going, _lead_ Lance’s hand where he wanted it most if he had to. But Keith also didn’t want to be the reason Lance got in trouble. Especially if that meant that, as a result, whatever this was they’d just touched the surface of might never happen again.

“Um, h-hey,” Keith croaked out, swallowing around the wrecked sound of his voice. Lance looked up at him from beneath his lashes, cheek pressed against Keith’s chest in a way that sent a different kind of warmth spiraling. Even though his eyes were still lidded and hazy with want, there was a curious sort of clarity there, like if Keith said he wanted to go on, Lance would jump in head first. Which was all the more reason Keith decided to reach out towards Lance’s hand and pull it away from his hip. 

Before Lance’s look of confusion could grow into one of disappointment, or worse, Keith sat up, keeping a firm grip on Lance’s hand as he did so.

“I’m, um… I’m not gonna lie.” Keith took a shaky breath and let it out on a huff, running his free hand through his hair. “If we were anywhere else right now… _fuck_.” Lance sat down on a stool next to the table that Keith hadn’t noticed was there, leaning on his elbow and resting his chin in the palm of his free hand.

“Seconded,” he mumbled, grinning wryly, which managed to pull a grin out of Keith as well, the two boys simply staring at each other for a moment before letting out a unanimous breath of fragile laughter.

“But as much as I… well,” Keith cleared his throat, glancing inadvertently towards where he was still half hard before looking resolutely back at Lance. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Lance seemed surprised by this somehow, wide eyes finally mostly clear of lust trailing over Keith’s face before softening, crinkling at the edges with his following smile.

“Yeah,” he nodded, carefully pulling his hand out of Keith’s grip. Keith tried not to think about how much colder his palm felt in its absence. “Probably for the best we didn’t… yeah.” The words were meant to sound casual, but even Keith could hear the strain behind them. And the disappointment. “We should--” Lance started to continue, but Keith cut him off, reaching over to place a hand against the nape of Lance’s neck, leaning him in for a softer, sweeter kiss, one with both the same and very, very different intention.

When they pulled away this time, Lance’s face appeared almost warmer than before, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Keith’s heart stuttered again, chest clenching at just how _beautiful_ this boy was.

“I didn’t mean never,” Keith murmured, half distracted by how open and hopeful Lance’s face was. “Just… not here.”

“Not here,” Lance parroted, voice awed and growing increasingly more excited. “But somewhere else?”

Keith hummed, leaning in for another kiss and whispering the words against Lance’s lips. “ _Anywhere_ else.”

Lance’s responding giggle was the most adorable thing Keith had ever heard, the sound settling deep at his core and filling him with his own giddiness. Enough so that he couldn’t help planting one more chaste kiss on Lance’s mouth before lying back down on the table.

“For now, though,” he said, stretching languidly, allowing the sheet to fall just shy of his lap before he was turning back onto his stomach. “I think you still owe me the rest of a massage.”

Keith couldn’t see what Lance’s reaction was, but by the indignant squawking, he assumed it was hilarious. Still, true to his professionalism ( _or what was left of it anyway_ ) Lance’s hands were back on his shoulders without much prompting, already slick with massage oil and firm with familiar pressure.

After a long few moments of working knots out of muscles, Keith moaning appreciatively all the while, Lance finally mumbled a tight, “You’re the worst.” Keith couldn’t help but agree, though that didn’t stop him from laughing in smug response.

\---

It was the longest massage Lance had ever given. It was also probably the best.

That is, once they’d gotten over the tension of wanting to jump each other’s bones, settled down into an electric buzz of maybe just wanting to kiss each other a lot, and finally found their way back to a casual, if not slightly flirty massage. Keith still made absolutely sinful noises every time Lance worked out a particularly aggressive knot, and Lance still gave in to a few deep, searing kisses before walking out of the room to let Keith change, but over all, no harm had been done. At least, nothing his company could prove.

“So?” Allura asked, walking up to him as he stood in the hallway outside the room, cup of water in hand so Keith could rehydrate. “How did it go?”

Lance tried to keep his face casual, shrugging one shoulder and offering the woman a playful glance. “I think he likes me.”

She seemed to sense something in his expression, his words, but before she could analyze, the door was opening and Keith was stepping into the hall. Allura sucked in a soft breath only they could hear, Lance’s eyes flicking over to the side just in time to see a surprised expression form and vanish on Allura’s delicate features. When Keith looked down to grab the water from Lance’s outstretched hand, he shot her a wink as if to say, _See? Told you he was smokin’._

So much so, in fact, that Lance couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way Keith’s throat worked as he swallowed back the cup of water gulp after gulp.

Lance wheezed at the sudden feel of an elbow to his chest, snapping his attention back over to Allura with a scandalized expression. 

Keith blinked in confusion, but Allura chose then to smile innocently and say, “Hope you enjoyed your massage,” waiting for Keith’s eyes to widen and his face to grow pink before nodding her head at both boys in turn, walking leisurely away. Lance ran a hand over his own flushed face.

“Sorry about her,” Lance said, scratching at the back of his neck as he shot a glare down the hallway where Allura had promptly disappeared. “She’s just nosy.”

“Does she know we…?” Keith cleared his throat, eyes staring down the empty hallway as well. Lance shook his head.

“Doubtful. But if she does, she’s chill. She won’t tell anyone.”

Keith nodded, fidgeting with his empty water cup for a moment before straightening, as if suddenly resolved on some matter Lance wasn’t aware of.

“So,” he started, looking anywhere but at Lance’s face; it was adorable, really. “You wouldn’t happen to do house calls…”

Lance blinked, taken aback by the obvious intention behind those words. _God_ , Keith was cute. It just wasn’t _fair_.

Feeling a swell of confidence at the flirtatious request, Lance reached into his apron and snagged a business card and a pen. “I’m sure I could make an exception,” he hummed, smirking when Keith finally recaptured his gaze. Keith’s eyes seemed to shine with something akin to hope, and Lance was doomed. Doomed and so, so weak.

Quickly scrawling his personal cell phone number on the back of the card, he pocketed the pen and reached out towards Keith’s hip. Keith’s breath caught in his throat, a shudder running through him when Lance looped his arm around Keith’s waist to slip the card into his back pocket. And, because he was feeling bold, he leaned in, hand still resting lightly against the swell of Keith’s ass, to whisper in his ear.

“Maybe we can work something out under the table.”

When Lance finally pulled back, keeping his expression open and innocent, it was to find Keith’s face an alarming shade of red and his eyes wide. It was such an adorably flustered display that Lance couldn’t help but lean in to place a quick, hopefully unseen kiss to the boy’s heated cheek.

That seemed to shake Keith from his stupor, his eyes narrowing at Lance even as his lips quirked up in amusement. Then, something new seemed to fill his gaze, something sultry and sexy and Lance felt his equilibrium shift under the weight of it. Enough so that when Keith took a step towards him, chests nearly flush with the proximity, he swore he might lose his footing all together.

“I have a feeling you’re going to ruin any future massages for me,” he hummed, eyes flickering from Lance’s lips to his eyes and back. Lance swallowed feeling trapped by that look in the best of ways.

“I’d better,” he managed to get out, and he would probably be embarrassed later by how breathy the words sounded. But right now? Right now, he was in heaven. Especially when Keith smirked wider, gave Lance a full body once over and stepped away. As much as Lance refused to admit it, smug really looked good on him.

At one point in the exchange, Keith had grabbed Lance’s card from his pocket, waving over his shoulder with it as he walked down the hall and through the door to the lobby. 

For a long moment, Lance could only lean against the wall, hand over his racing heart. Then, when the initial dizziness had passed, he was bombarded with a thought so out of the blue it made him giggle.

He wasn’t sure when the man’s next appointment was, but he was definitely buying Shiro a gift basket.

\---

“ _So? How was it?_ ” Shiro’s voice echoed through the speakers of Keith’s car as he pulled out of the spa’s small parking lot. Keith grinned to himself, still floating on the high of having Lance’s lips on his, on the prospect of more that having gotten Lance’s number entailed. 

Still, he kept his voice deadly and cold as he replied, “Fuck you, Shiro.”

An unintelligible sound was his only response for a long moment, as if Shiro couldn’t decide whether to apologize or go on the defensive. So before his brother died of an aneurysm, Keith put him out of his misery.

“Thank you.”

Silence fell between them for a moment, and then Shiro’s voice once again whispered through the speakers. “ _I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly. What was that?_ ”

Keith rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop smiling. “You heard me.”

Shiro didn’t press, chuckling softly to himself. “ _I take it it went well then?_ ” He asked, and Keith hummed a non committal response, thinking of Lance’s hands on his bare back and chest, his lips dragging over a pert and sensitive nipple. Keith bit his lip to keep from making a sound, pants suddenly just a hair too tight. “ _Well? How do you feel?_ ” Shiro asked after a moment, completely oblivious to the train of thought Keith had found himself meandering down.

Sparing a glance at Lance’s business card, placed phone number up in his center console, Keith grinned.

“Never better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you had as much fun reading this one as I had writing it! Feel free to sling a comment at me like a tomato to the face. It really gets my creative juices flowing. Danke!


End file.
